truths
by storyweaver
Summary: A story about Hank admitting his feelings for Beth after a night of drunkeness.


Valentine's Day and all alone. How miserable was that, Hank Bennett asked himself as he shook his half-empty glass of alcohol around, the clinking noise of the ice hitting his ears more than anything else. He should have never gone out tonight. If he had any sense, he would have left Harmony after the mess with Sheridan had gotten cleared up. Shaking his head, he downed the remnants of his drink. He set the glass away from him, waving the bartender over again.

"Yeah," the older man asked as he stopped in front of Hank.

"Another drink. Make this one a triple," the slurred words stumbled out.

Shaking his head, the bartender took away the empty glass. Moments later, he returned with another. "Here you go buddy, but I think this should be your last one," he told him before walking away.

Hank heard but decided not to process the words. All he wanted was the drink. Well, maybe not so much the drink, he realized. But the feeling he was achieving with each glass was welcome. He didn't want to have to think about Luis and Sheridan as a couple. He didn't want to have to think of his missed opportunies, and there had been so many. He sure as hell didn't want to think about how much of a loser he was. Is. The numbness was enough.

From acroos the room, Beth watched Hank throw back another drink, his fifth within the two hours they had been at the bar. In all the years she had known him, she'd never seen him act this way. Flicking her gaze away for the moment, she watched Luis and Sheridan on the small dance floor. The couple had been insperable from walking in the doors, probably even before. Right now, they were glued together as they had been for the past hour or so, lost in their own romantic world.

"Elizabeth, did you hear me," asked a voice.

Turning quickly, Beth was able to catch the look of disappointment on her date's face before he masked it with a smile.

"I'm sorry Adam," she apologized quickly. "I guess I haven't exactly been a great date tonight, huh?"

"It's okay. Maybe its me that's boring you," he returned with a warm smile. 

A smile that should have had her toes curling. A smile that should have sent shivers of awareness racing down her arms. A smile that would have had most girls thanking God they had found someone that would look at them that way. A smile that only caused her stomach to flip in nervousness. 

"No, its not you," she told him, trying not to shrug out of the arm he'd put around her shoulder. "It's Valentine's and I'm not even paying attention to my date," she used the last word in lieu of boyfriend, which was exactly what Adam Carpenter was. The only problem was, she wasn't so sure she wanted him to be that.

"Do you want to dance," he nodded towards the full floor. "I'm not that good, but I could make an exception this once."

Shaking her head, she smiled. "You don't have to do that, Adam. Really, I'm having a great time."

"Well, then, that's good. I guess four out of five isn't so bad, right?"

Her gaze immediately went to Hank. She had to agree with Adam. Hank looked miserable and she was partly to blame. She'd felt so unsure about this date wth Adam that she'd invited Hank and another close friend Tina. Unfortunately, Tina had backed out and before she could grab a hold of Hank. When Adam and her had arrived at the bar, they were greeted by not only Hank, but Sheridan and Luis too. Almost immediately, she'd noticed Hank draw into himself. Now, he seemed set on the road to self-destruction.

"I should go see if he's alright," she said, already getting up. Carefully making her way through the crowded night spot, she squeezed herself in between another customer and Hank.

"What will it be sweetheart," the bartender asked, having walked over at her approach.

"I'm not drinking tonight," she told him, her gaze still resting on Hank, who had yet to look up from his empty glass. She stood silent, waiting for him to acknowledge her presence. He didn't.

"Why are you doing this," she spoke loud enough for him to hear. The only response received was a shrug of the shoulders. 

"Hank, I'm sorry about this. Really, I am."

"Whatever, Beth."

At least she got a verbal response that time, she thought to herself. "You want to come sit with Adam and me," she asked him.

"No, I don't." Turning, he looked her in the eye the best that he could. "I'm doing just fine here. I don't need your company. I don't want your pity. Go back to your date." Removing his gaze from her, he raised his hand to wave over the bartender. He watched as the other man slowly made his way over.

"Another drink, bartender. And a glass of water too. I think I'll start sobering up now." The bartender gave him a look as if to say "Sure" and turned to fill the order.

"You can't be thinking of driving in your condition, Hank."

"Jesus Christ Beth! What are you, my father? Back off!"

She supressed her hurt, knowing his own was tantamount in comparison. "I'm not trying to be your father, Hank. But seriously, if you drive drunk you could get arrested. Or heaven forbid, kill someone!"

"Or better yet myself," was his quick retort.

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. "You don't mean that." She hoped to God he didn't mean it.

Hank turned to look at her, his face a blank expression. "Go back to your date Beth." He picked up one glass the bartender had set in front of him, downing the contents in one swig. The action was repeated with the second. Slowly, he slid off the bar stool. One hand on the counter to steady himself, he took out his wallet from the back of his jeans.

"Hank, that's way too much," Beth told him, spotting the several bills he had thrown on the bar.

"Oh for pete's sake, leave me alone Beth!" Stuffing the wallet into his front pocket, he spun around to make his exit. He probably should have turned slowly, since the quick spin caused his head to dance, throwing him off balance.

"Hey," Beth exclaimed, stepping forward to catch him before he fell over.

"Let go," he hissed, flinging her steadying grasp off of him. "I'm not a child, Beth."

"Then stop acting like one, Hank." She saw the momentary look of regret in his face. But as fast as it had come it was gone. And so was he. Returning quickly to her own table, she told Adam about what had just happened.

"Where is he," Adam asked, standing to scan the crowd. 

Beth picked up her coat, scarf, and pocketbook in a flurry of movement. "I don't know, but we have to find him." She turned quickly, pushing her way through the crowd.

"Hey, Beth," she heard Luis' familiar voice call out, but she didn't stop. When the cool February night hit her face, she made use of the extra air. Searching around wildly, she wasn't able to spot Hank. She willed the beginning tears to stop. 

"Elizabeth," her date called, spotting her. He walked over to her. "Put your jacket on, Elizabeth. It's chilly out."

She mentally screamed. That was the least of her concerns as she shrugged into the coat with his help. "I can't f-find him."

"Maybe we should check the parking lot."

Beth would have slapped her forhead, but didn't want to waist the second. It only took a few minutes to find Hank's beat up old truck, his most prized possession. Seeing it gave her a great amount of relief, though she was still worried about Hank.

"Well, at least he's not driving. Maybe he caught a cab or even walked."

Though Adam's words were meant to be reassuring, they only served to add more doubts to the situation. She nodded to make him think she was okay.

"Do you want to go back inside?"

"No." What if Hank got hurt in an accident?

"We could walk the streets of downtown for a while," came another suggestion from Adam.

"No." Or worse yet, he hurt himself on purpose?

"Okay. Do you just want to call it a night?"

She looked to Adam, noting the disappointment on his face. "I think that would be best."

Forty-five mintues later, the two were standing in front of her second story apartment door. Pulling her coat closer to ward off the chilly night air, Beth smiled up at Adam. "Thanks for the date. I know it didn't go as planned and I'm sorry."

Adam smiled that same smile. "It's not your fault. I wish I could have a word or two with Hank, though," he told her stepping closer.

"Well, it wasn't really his fault," Beth defended Hank, stepping back. "It was mine. I didn't get in touch with him. And then, Luis and Sheridan had to show up."

"That's no reason to get drunk and run off like he did."

"He's just upset, Adam."

"Well, I'm a little upset myself," Adam told her, his voice becoming agitated. "I mean, I had a romantic night planned with my beautiful girlfriend and he has to ruin it. At least we have right now," he finished, stepping closer still.

"It's getting late. I should get going," Beth told him quickly, turning to fish the key out of her small purse. As she slipped the key in the lock, Adam's hands planted firmly against the door frame on both sides of her head, closing her in.

"Aren't you going to invite me in," he asked, his mouth close to her ear.

"No, she's not," came a low voice from the darkened corner of the landing, causing both of them to jump.

"Hank," Beth asked shakily. She didn't know if it was from the relief of him being safe or that from not having to tell Adam there would ne no invitations inside her home. Stepping away from her door, she walked over to where Hank sat on the ground, his back supported by the metal guard bars. She kneeled down in front of him, looking for any signs that he was hurt, though it was really too dark to see. "Are you okay," she asked him. 

Instead of responding to Beth, Hank turned his blurred gaze to her date. "You can leave now, Adam. She'll be fine with me."

"Said the drunk to the sober man."

"Adam, really," Beth admonished over her shoulder. Turning back to Hank, she offered him her hand to stand. Thankfully, he took it, though helping him up was more of a task. Finally, they both stood, Hank a little wobbly, but in one piece the less.

"You know what Adam," Hank slurred, his arm around Beth as they walked towards her door. "You should just...quit. Beth will never...never go for a guy like you."

"Oh really," Adam asked before Beth could even say a word.

"Really," Hank said nodding his head. "The truth is, she's still in love with...Luis," he spat his best friend's name angrily.

"Hank, that's enough," Beth told him. She steadied him before turning the key in her lock and turning the door knob, then pushing the door open. "I'm sorry Adam, but..."

"Don't be sorry. You can't help who you love," Hank told her before turning towards Adam. "You though. You should be sorry. Beth's a great woman. When Luis finally realizes it, she'll make him the happiest man alive." Giving Adam a shaky salute, Hank stumbled into the dark apartment.

"I'm really..." She stopped with Adam's raised hand.

"Like he said, don't be. I understand."

"No you don't," she told him shaking her head. She wondered why she was trying to save a relationship she didn't even want. "Hank's drunk. He's just...saying things, you know?"

"Yes, maybe so. But honesty has an ugly way of rearing its head when you're intoxicated. I know this from experience. And I could see it tonight. You couldn't take your eyes of Luis and his date. Maybe its for the best that I found out now instead of wasting my time. Goodnight Elizabeth," he finished with a small hug before turning and walking away.

Beth could only stand there mute, watching as he descended the stairs. Not knowing whether to scream or cry, she turned to walk into her apartment. Closing the door, she flipped the entryway light on and started taking her coat off. "Hank," she shouted, deciding on anger instead of sadness. Walking further into her apartment, she threw her coat on the back of her loveseat. Though the living room was in shadows, she could make out that Hank wasn't there.

"Where are you, Hank," she asked louder into her apartment. Turning on another light, Beth made her way past the small kitchen to the hall bathroom. Still, no Hank.

"Hank, I'm not kidding here," she said. How dare he say those things to Adam! That she was still in love with Luis? He must really be drunk to think such an idiotic thing like that.

"Stop shouting Beth," came a mumble from within her bedroom. Walking into the darkened room, she could make out a figure slumped on her king size bed, the only luxury she had allowed herself when moving in a few years ago.

"You're an idiot," she told him. Walking towards her bed, she flipped the lamp on the nightstand on. "Did you hear me Hank," she spoke loudly on purpose. "You. Are. An. Idiot."

"And you are doing that on purpose," Hank said, opening his eyes, then closing them to the light. "Why'd you have to do that, Beth?"

"This is my apartment, Bennett. If you don't like it, you know where the door is."

Opening one eye, and then the second, Hank looked at Beth. "You're not angry, are you," he asked, already knowing the answer.

"You were very rude to Adam. He left and he's probably never coming back."

"Better for you, don't you think? He was a jerk. Taking you to a bar on Valentine's Day? Now he's the idiot."

Beth fumed. She would not even waste her breath trying to explain her date with Adam. Rather deciding on a great revenge, she made her way over to turn the other lamp on. Over the bed, that is.

"Christ, Beth," Hank yelled when he got a knee near his most important anatomical part. 

"Watch your mouth, mister," she told him. Stalling with her legs still over Hank, she reached over to turn the other lamp on. Her fingers were just about to connect with the switch when her body was yanked back. "Hank," she yelped, trying to gain some balance. As much as she flailed about, Hank had somehow wrapped her tightly in his arms.

"I like it when you yell at me Beth. It brings back great memories from my youth," he remarked snidely.

Feeling bad when she shouldn't have, Beth let out a small sigh. "Drinking is not the way to solve your problems, Hank. You could have just talked to someone...to me. I would have listened. I always listen to you."

Hank only shrugged.

"So why didn't you," she asked him.

"One, you were on a date. And two, the drinks just went down more easy."

"Hank," she began, raising her hand to give him a playful jab. She didn't expect him to grab it; didn't expect him to bring it to his mouth; didn't expect him to plant his lips firmly on on her open palm.

"But now that I've got your attention, there is one thing I want to know," he told her, his lips still against her hand.

"W-w-what," she stammered, her eyes glued to his lips. 

"Luis. What does he have that I don't?"

"What," she asked, her gaze flying to his.

"First day of Kindergarten, Luis got to hold hands with Jeanie Sue Finn. She'd been my neighbor for years. We were friends before I ever met Luis and she dumps me for him. In the second grade, Lindsey Pinkersmith chose to be Luis' line buddy when I asked her first. Then, in the fifth grade, Samantha Dennis asked me to the Backwards Dance. She didn't see me the minute we walked in because Luis' date had gotten sick. I just want to know what it is that attracts women to him."

Beth couldn't believe what she'd just heard. The lighter side of her wanted to laugh in his face. Those were instances from so long ago, it shocked her that he still held on to the memories. But the serious side of her could understand why he'd brought them up. "This is about Sheridan, right," she asked. She pulled her hand out of his grasp and shifted uncomfortably, as best as one could on someone elses lap.

"I don't care about Sheridan."

She gave him a look. "Yeah, right."

"Okay, maybe I did, but now I don't. She can have him. I just want to know what it is about Luis that makes women swoon over him."

"We don't swoon over him Hank."

"Yes you do," Hank said, raising his head off the headboard. "You especially, Beth. You followed him around like a puppy."

"I did not," she said indignantly, scooting off his lap onto the empty space beside him.

Turning to face her, it was Hank's turn to giver her a look of incredulity. "Yes you did. I remember specifically Sophomore year. I'd just gotten my license and my dad was letting me take out the truck. I came over to get you, but your mom said you'd went with Luis football practice. Again."

"So," she asked, not seeing the big deal.

"So? So, it was my biggest moment of my life to date and I wanted to share it with you above anyone else. But you couldn't because of Luis."

"Hank, I rode in your truck the next day I'm sure."

Shaking his head, Hank moved his feet onto the floor. "That's not the same thing," came his whisper. "When you got your license the next year, who was the first person you wanted to share it with?"

Silence.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Standing, Hank made his way out the door.

"Hank, wait," Beth called, scrambling off the bed. She willed the tears back as her own memories assailed her. Hank was right. There were countless times when she had shrugged him off or was unavailable because of something she had to do for or with Luis. 

Worse yet, she remembered the many times when she had felt alone, scared, and unsure of herself. Without even being asked, Hank was always there for her. Somehow, he'd find a way to lift her spirits and set her self-confidence straight. What never failed was the way she would repay him, always by running back into Luis' arms.

God, Hank had been her rock through those years and she had treated him no better than the rug on her carpet. "Hank," Beth called, not succeeding in keeping the tears at bay. She reached the hall just as he was opening her front door. "Hank! Please, wait!"

Hank stilled, his hand tightening on the doorknob. "It's okay Beth. I shouldn't have made a big deal of it." He turned slightly, catching her wipe tears off her face. "Damn," he muttered, pushing the door closed as he walked back to comfort the first woman he had ever loved. He guessed it was more his problem that he hadn't made his feelings clear, but he didn't know how to do that without the awkwardness that would surely arise. 

Beth had never seen him as anything more than a friend and probably never would because of the barrier of one Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald that had been placed between them so many years before. And as much as he willed the pain away, it always lingered about, especially on days like this when he realized how alone in the world he really was.

"Hank, I'm sorry." She wanted to say so much more, but the soft sobs racking her body wouldn't allow her to.

"Stop it, Beth," Hank told her, his hands holding her face, his thumbs smoothing away her tears. "Stop crying, baby. I'm sorry. I'm an idiot, I know. I didn't mean it."

"Yes, you did," Beth said through her tears.

Shaking his head, Hank smiled grimly. "No, I didn't. I was being an ass. I couldn't handle Luis and Sheridan and I took it out on you. You've been the best friend any guy could ask for, Beth. You're a great woman period."

"That's the second time you've said that tonight," she said, sniffling. How could he say such nice things to her when she treated him like a doormat?

"That's because its the truth. You are. You're warm, and generous, and kind-hearted. You're gorgeous." He couldn't help himself. It was the truth. And especially now, she needed to hear some good things about herself after the way he'd behaved.

Beth's eyes widened at that. "Hank ..."

Placing a finger over her lips, he continued. "You don't know how many times your smile made my day, even if you weren't smiling just for me. One day, probably not that far off, your smile is going to make some man thank his lucky stars he found you. Just wait and see." He looked into her eyes, making sure she believed his words.

But all Beth could do was stand silent as Hank gave her a soft kiss on the cheek and turned to leave. Turning, she walked back into her bedroom and crawled into the comfortable sheets. Biting her lip to slow the tears she knew would fall regardless, Beth closed her eyes to drive away the pain that suddenly bombarded her heart. But still, she saw Hank's eyes as he had delivered his parting words. 

And for just one second, she could of sworn he had wanted to be the man he'd spoken about.


End file.
